Yu-Gi-Oh Sequel (Working Title)
by Gesshoku2008
Summary: After the events of Dark Side of Dimensions, Seto Kaiba returns to find that he has been away longer than he expected. Kaiba Corporation has changed for the better under Mokuba's control, which has included the revival of an old project Seto had left to rot. Included in these changes is a new employee, hired by Mokuba, to help lead the revived project.. and she looks very familiar.
1. Chapter 1

It felt as if he was floating, passing through ethereal space into oblivion. Seto didn't dare open his eyes, unsure of what he'd see if he opened them. Atem had no description of the space he would be traveling through and no explanation as to what he would experience once he was there. The smaller man's lack of knowledge regarding Seto's journey home didn't settle well, but now that he was in it, he found it oddly comforting. There was a strange absence of feeling, as if all his senses had been muted to an immeasurable degree. All there was was the distinct, alien rumbling of his own blood, as if he had placed his palms over his ears in a desperate attempt to hear something, anything from his own realm.

It was the most calming, yet indescribably terrifying feeling he'd ever experienced. There was no need to think, nothing to analyze. Here, he could just be.

Was this really what it felt like to cross over, cross between, whatever it was Atem had called it? There hadn't been time to think about the process before, he had just… arrived; landing in Atem's memory world with a force and quickness only he could achieve. He hadn't considered the return trip, only the destination.

A sound came to meet him in the darkness. The familiar honking of car horns, rumbling of engines, and hum of a nearby ventilation system seemed to swell until it was all around him. It was as if the world was coming to meet him. With relief Seto opened his eyes, finding himself sitting at his desk in his office high atop Kaiba Corporation. His hands were poised over the keyboard in front of him, as if he had just been working. Confused, Seto pulled his hands away, watching as row after row of nonsense text skittered past on the computer screen.

What had happened? How did he get there? Had the void between worlds been a dream? If so, why couldn't he remember what he was just doing?

"Seto!"

He looked up to find Mokuba standing in front of the open entrance to his office. To his shock, the boy was younger, appearing to be the same age he had been when they lived at the orphanage. Behind him, the doorway was filled with blinding white light. Young Mokuba reached out to him, palm up, as if asking to hold his hand.

"Come on, Seto!" The boy smiled. "Let's go build sandcastles!"

Seto moved to get up, muted by the strange, yet ethereal sight of the smaller version of his brother. As he stood, his arms jerked downward, suddenly heavier than he could move. He looked to find his wrists shackled, a thick chain bolting his arms to the floor just below his desk.

"What's wrong, Seto?" Mokuba had grown older, now the same teen he'd left behind. "Why don't you ever play with me anymore? Why don't you ever talk to me anymore?"

Seto tugged and pulled at his chains, desperately trying to get away from his desk. He opened his mouth to speak, but found it sealed shut.

The boys eyes filled with tears. "Do you even still care about me?"

He watched, horrified, as Mokuba began to fade into the white light. He continued to struggle, feeling his flesh tear against the shackles and blood seep from his wrists, down his fingers. Mokuba faded away, turning his back on Seto as the office door slammed shut, taking with it the radiant light.

Seto was once again in darkness. There was a metallic snap as the chain finally gave way, it and the shackles dissolving to dust at his feet as he fell backwards. He was suddenly looking up at a dark sky dotted with stars, the full moon illuminating the world around him. Sitting up, he found himself in an endless sea of sand. The grains stung his wounds. He clutched them to his chest, hissing in pain.

"What the hell?" He groaned.

Someone stepped into his view. He looked up, following bare feet and legs to a find a woman dressed in rags looking down at him. Her white hair hung down past her waist, pooling around her as she moved to kneel before him.

"You are hurt." She said. "Please, let me help you."

Seto shook his head. "You're not real. None of this is real."

"Please," Her hands opened to him. "Let me help you."

"No!" He stated firmly. "You're not real! This is a trick, a dream!"

She looked at him sadly, pulling her hands away to clasp them in front of her chest. She appeared to draw away even though her body never moved, receding as the sand and speckled sky grew dark around them. She watched him from across the void, sadness withdrawing to leave a blank, unfeeling stare that chilled him from the inside. Her image began to waver, warp, bend, until cracks started to spider across her form as if it was glass. She shattered and Seto covered his ears against the sound that snapped through the silence like a whip. Shards of razor sharp glass glinted at him in the distance, holding still for just a moment before racing toward him. He ducked his head, covering his face against the shards, but they passed right through him.

There was a scream from high above him, deep and unnervingly familiar. It grew in volume until it suddenly stopped, punctuated by a hard, heavy crunch just feet from where he sat. Seto didn't dare look. He knew what he would see if he opened his eyes.

"Shame, isn't it." He knew that voice, that calm uninterested drawl.

Seto looked up... at himself. More so, a younger version of himself. At the younger Seto's feet was the corpse of Gozaburo Kaiba; his body mangled as if from a great fall, blood seeping from his crushed skull, and his eyes staring lifeless at Seto. The display made him feel ill.

"Out with the old, in with the new," the younger Seto said, grinning maliciously. "Right?"

"Shut up!" Seto pulled himself to his feet, fighting against the burning pain running up his arms. "I never said that!"

The younger Seto cocked his head, amused. With a chuckle, he pointed down at the body.

"Out with the old," The boy hissed. "In with the new."

Seto's eyes flickered down for an instant. His breath froze in his throat and he looked down again. Gozaburo's corpse was no longer there, replaced by a mirror image of himself, mangled and bleeding. He grit his teeth and looked back at the boy... only to stumble back. Mokuba stood there, wearing an expression of contempt he had never seen on the boy's face before.

"Mokuba..."

His little brother grinned. "I had a good teacher, didn't I, Seto?"

"No!" He called out, but the scene was already fading away.

Once again in the black, Seto fell to his knees. He stared down at his bloody hands and his mangled wrists. What was the point of this torture? Why was he being forced to go through this when all he wanted was to go home, back to his brother and his company?

"Stop screwing with me!" He screamed at what must have been the floor. "If you have a point to make, than make it!"

The sound of a voice made him look up. It was far away, too far to make out what it was saying. Two doors appeared from the darkness, standing against the black with no frame to hold them upright. The one on the right was made of solid wood, varnished to a shine, with a gold nameplate bolted to it. Etched into the plate was the name: "Kaiba." The door on the left was simpler, made of compressed wood, painted a powder blue color with crayon markings scribbled over its surface, and a printed construction paper sign taped to it. The name on the sign had been scribbled over with black marker, distorting and completely masking the name that lay underneath. Seto stood, staring at the two doors.

"You're making me choose?" He hissed through gritted teeth. "Fine!"

Seto immediately made his way to the right hand door. As he reached for the handle, his wrists stung suddenly, making him cry out in pain. The shackles had reappeared, sending fresh torrents of blood down his hands and fingers. Horrified, he backed away from the door, searching desperately for a latch, trying to remove the bindings. He found none.

"Damn!"

From behind the other door, the voice grew closer. It was faint, female, and it was calling for him.

"Seto!"

He stopped, looking up at the left hand door. The voice was familiar, but only slightly, as if he'd met its owner long ago and forgotten them.

"Seto!" She continued to call. "Seto, please, come home!"

He hesitated, looking back at the familiar door. He was comfortable with it, he wanted to go through it, but the longer he stared at it the more his wrists ached and burned. All the while the voice remained constant, urging him through the other door. Gritting his teeth once again, Seto turned from the right hand door to stand before the other one. There was an odd sense of déjà vu that nagged at the back of his mind as he gripped the cheap, loose handle and turned it. It opened instantly, swinging inward, taking with it Seto's bloody handprint on the handle as it disappeared into the void. A bright light grew from the blackness on the other side, filling what would have been the door's frame. With a deep breath, Seto stepped through, hearing the shackles click as they fell away.

He appeared in a tree house. It was small, not even four square feet in size, with a simple pulley system hanging off one side. In the basket hanging from the end of the rope were boxes of juice and bags of junk food. Scattered at his feet were shoeboxes full of Duel Monster's cards. Seto knelt to look into one and was surprised to find that he was a child again, no older than nine years old.

The voice called out again, much closer this time. "Seto!"

Seto got up and hurried down the ladder, leaving tiny, bloody handprints on the rails as he went. He had to know who owned that voice. He had to find out why it was so familiar.

"There you are!"

Landing on the ground, Seto turned from the ladder and found himself looking up at the image of his mother. He'd forgotten how beautiful she had been. Her hair was so long and so black, like an ocean of night cascading down her back. Her eyes, they were so shockingly blue and always so kind, so comforting. He stared at her, desperately wanting to write the image into his memory, never wanting to forget it again.

"Oh! Honey, what happened?" She rushed to kneel in front of him, reaching out to gently take his bloody wrists in her hands.

Seto tried to hold back a shiver at her touch, shaking his head as he fought back the tears that were suddenly threatening to fall from his eyes. "I'm okay. This is nothing."

She smiled, reaching up with one hand to cup his cheek. "Always so tough, aren't you? So much like you father."

His father... What did his father look like again? He couldn't remember.

Seto couldn't stop them. Tears ran down his cheeks as he sobbed, overcome by a sudden and overwhelming guilt that tore through him. His mother reached out and enveloped him in her arms, holding him in an embrace that was warm and far more comforting that he deserved.

"I'm sorry!" He gasped. "I'm sorry!"

He felt her smiled against his hair. "Sorry for what, sweetie?"

"I forgot! I forgot everything!" Seto cried into his mother's blouse. "I forgot you. I can't remember father. I was so focused on making things better for Mokuba I... that I..."  
"Shhh," She rubbed his back. "It's okay. Seto, I am so proud of you."

She pushed him back enough to look into his red, watery eyes. "We are so proud of you."

"How can you be proud of me!?" Seto was yelling, voice broken and hoarse. "After what I've done? I killed our step father. I... oh, God... I abandoned Mokuba!"

His mother shook her head, cupping his face in both her hands. "No, you've done very well."

"How?!"

"Because, no matter what, you made sure that you two were _never_ separated." Her voice was firm. "You did your best to provide for Mokuba what we no longer could. You two stayed family, even when everything else tried to pull you apart."

"But..."

"No buts," She interrupted. "You are my son. You grew in my belly. I watched you grow until my time came. I saw the lengths you were willing to go to, to keep your promise to your brother. For that, I will always, _always_ be proud of you."

Seto's tears started anew. She embraced him again, pulling him close until he had almost settled in her lap.

When his sobs subsided again, he asked, "Are you really my mother?"

She chuckled and rubbed his back. "That's a silly thing to ask. Why don't you tell me?"

Seto watched the ripples of her hair dance. "I know what I want to believe, but that doesn't make it real."

"Perhaps not, but then you never were a very imaginative child." She laughed. "Always too busy studying and playing chess on your father's computer."

He smiled. "You do sound like my mother, at least."

She sighed. "Close your eyes, Seto. It's time for you to go home."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Now, now. Mokuba's waiting for you. It's best we not keep you from him any longer."

Seto nodded, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of his mother's perfume. "I won't forget you again, I promise."

She chuckled lightly. "I know, sweetie. You always keep your promises."

Seto's mother began to sing. It was a soft, familiar tune that lulled his mind into a comfortable sleep.

When he opened his eyes again he found himself laying on a hard, stone floor, looking up at the ceiling of a cavern. Little stones and grains of sand dug into his flesh, but he continued to lay there, feeling the ground beneath his hands and letting the pebbles play between his fingers, waiting for something around him to change. When nothing did, he breathed deep the musty air, coughing as sand and dust caught in his throat, forcing him to sit as he cleared his lungs.

He knew this chamber. This was his excavation, or at least what was left of his obsessive search for the Millennium Puzzle. The entrance had been opened to about the same size at it had once been, though now it was raised about a foot off its old platform. He lay on the opposite platform, among forgotten trowels and brushes. The sarcophagus lay nearby, as if undisturbed by all efforts to reveal it, the items imbedded in it glinting in the light shining in from the entrance. The puzzle had been replaced at some point. It sat in its notch as if it had never been moved, its golden eye staring unblinkingly at the ceiling of the cavern. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, straightening the strands as he moved to get up.

A scent reached his nose. He stopped to seek it, finding the smell of perfume clinging to his clothing. His mother's perfume hung onto him, as if she was still there. He sat back down, staring down at his tingling wrists. He could still feel the ghost of gentle fingers across his skin, soothing wounds that were no longer there.

That was her. That really had been her.

Seto saw the tears land before his eyes, soaking his pants and the wrists of his jacket before he'd even realized he was crying. He reached up and felt his face, feeling the hot tears trickle over his fingers and tasting them on his lips. Grief overcame him and, for the very first time, he didn't want to fight it. He sat in the Pharaoh's tomb grieving the loss of his parents for the first time, allowing himself the pain he should have felt years ago, the pain he pushed away and forced himself to forget. Memories flooded back to him, spurring on his tears. Memories of simpler times, of happier times; before orphanages and step fathers and multi-billion dollar companies.

Slowly, Seto came back to himself. He felt different, calmer, or at least more at peace. When his face was dry, he stood and looked down at the sarcophagus. What was he to say? Even he was to say something, would Atem even hear it?

Probably not.

With a sharp click of his heel Seto turn from the sarcophagus and made his way to the other end of the cavern. He peered through the entrance, where the outside light shined back at him like a beacon. He stepped into it, placing a hand against the solid stone wall as his boots sought purchase on the uneven ground.

But something made him look back, glancing into the cavern where his shadow projected onto the far wall. The presence was familiar, strong and undeniably powerful. It seemed to be reaching toward him from the far side of the chamber, as if it wanted him to know it was watching him leave.

A corner of his lips twisted upward ever so slightly. "What do you want me to say?"

He shook his head, feeling ridiculous for expecting an answer.

"Goodbye, I suppose... and thank you," He said as he turned back towards the light. "...My friend."


	2. Chapter 2

Seto stepped out into the sunlight, the walls of the canyon towering over him on almost every side. The heavy slant of shadows that stretched from their base did little to alleviate the heavy, arid air around him. Within seconds, Seto could feel sweat form and drip down the side of this face, his clothing growing more uncomfortable the longer he stood in the heat. With an irritated sigh, he pulled his coat from his shoulders and laid it in the cavern entrance before sitting down.

There was no trace of the expedition, no sign that anyone had been there in a long time. Where large tents and work tables had once been set up in rows was nothing but bare, windswept sands. He knew it had been pointless, false hope to think that there would be workers here, still cleaning up behind them or getting ready to vacate the site. Once he had left, the first priority must have been to close down the operation as quickly as possible, erasing nearly every trace that the area had been touched. Though, thinking back to the discarded supplies in the cavern itself, Seto scowled. Someone would be receiving an irate phone call when he returned home.

Seto pulled his phone from his pants pocket. It jingled cheerfully as he turned it on, displaying the rotating initials of Kaiba Corporation before opening his home screen. He immediately went into his contacts list, quickly thumbing through the long line of partnered businesses, distributers, and special condition only numbers to find his brother's name. It was an automatic motion, almost robotic, that had been trained into his fingers over the years.

As his fingers quickly moved through the list, his eyes caught sight of an oddity in the top right corner of the screen, where the current date and time were usually displayed. Instead of the usual configuration was an odd combination of numbers, letters, and symbols that appeared to move and change at random. The abnormality made Seto pause, his brows rising as he watched the arrangement flicker and change. He could gleam no pattern in its movements, no meaning in how the figures changed. Perhaps it was a leftover effect of the transition, a function that ceased to function while in a time that no longer existed or while passing through that strange in between world. The glitch made him question if his phone would still work as it was supposed to, making his finger hover above Mokuba's name uncertainly.

With a huff, he pressed the name and initiated the call. Seto watched at the device struggle for connection, questioning more and more its reliability as the seconds passed. Even in the remote location, it shouldn't take so long for his cell to find a reliable signal. It should connect directly to his company satellite. That is, unless he was correct in his assumption that something had gone wrong with the device.

He almost sighed in relief when it finally connected, lifting the phone to his ear. The call was answered after the first ring.

"Seto?!"

Through the crackling reception Seto heard a voice that was undeniably Mokuba's, though it sounded deeper among the pops and hisses. Only Mokuba could, or would, greet him with such energy and excitement.

"Are you okay?" There was an unmistakable tone of panic in the boy's voice.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Where have you been?"

"I've been exactly where I said I would be. What do you-?"

"Where are you now?"

"I'm in Egypt."

The long silence following his answer made Seto wonder if the call had been dropped. An option he didn't doubt considering his phone's recent unreliability. He was about to pull the phone from his ear when Mokuba's voice returned.

"You're in Egypt? But… how?"

Seto reached up, wiping quickly pooling sweat from his brow. "That is something I can't quite explain. All I do know is that I woke up inside the temple."

"The one we went to when the Other Yugi left?"

"What other one would I be talking about?"

"Sorry." Mokuba laughed. "You're really okay then? I mean, you sound okay, but-"

"Mokuba, I'm fine. If there was, I would tell you."

"I know. I mean, I should've known. You've always been so cool about this kinda stuff. Nothing really bothers you."

"Sure…" Seto grimaced, unsure of the accuracy of that statement after what he'd just experienced. "Look, Mokuba…"

His voice trailed away. Should Seto tell his little brother about what he'd seen? Would it be wise? Doing so may make the boy worry more and make him seem unstable.

"Seto?"

He shook his head, deciding it was best to keep his experience to himself for now. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

Mokuba's childish excitement returned. "Hurry back, okay? There's so much I gotta tell you!"

Seto's brow was aloft again. "What are you talking about? I've only been gone-"

The boy laughed, taking Seto aback. "You'll see! You're gonna be so impressed!"

"Mokuba…"

His brother ignored the stern tone. "Call Hashim, you should still have his number. You remember him, right? He's the guy you hired to lead that expedition a while back. If you get him to pick you up and take you to Cairo International, you'll be home by this evening!"

Seto didn't know what part of Mokuba's rambling to focus on first. "What are you going on about? What do you mean 'a while back'?"

"Don't worry about it right now. I'll see you soon, big brother!"

"Wait! Mokuba!" But he was talking into a dead line.

He took the phone from his ear to stare down at it. Mokuba had always been an excitable child, but never so much that Seto had been hung up on before. Not only that, but the boy's words didn't sit right with him. They didn't fit with what he assumed.

Of course he remembered the head of his expedition. How could he not when he'd just hired the man not long ago? And what was with that phrase: 'a while back'? Such a phrase indicated a significant amount of time has passed, not the few days to a week Seto had originally estimated. Even if the latter end of his estimation proved to be true, how much could have changed in such a short amount of time?

As Seto flew into Domino City early that evening, it was apparent that something had gone very wrong with his estimation. He stared out his window at the city skyline, not wanting to believe what he saw… or, more so, what he didn't see. The large, looming space elevator was gone, the skyline untouched as if no such construction had occurred. In the distance, Kaiba Corporation towered over the city, stories above the surrounding buildings. It, at least, appeared unchanged.

The private jet veered slightly, turning to land in Domino International Airfield. Seto watched the ground speed beneath his window as the tarmac raced up to meet the plane, which jerked and shook as it landed. The cabin filled with intense rumbling as the plane flew down the runway, the sound dying away as it slowed. As Seto watched the airstrip meander past his window, the uncomfortable feeling of something being truly wrong settled in his stomach. He gripped the arms of his seat in anticipation, both wanting and dreading to see this little brother.

The jet came to a stop and the cabin decompressed with a soft, almost inaudible hiss. A moment later an attendant appeared from behind the service wall to unlatch and push open the cabin door. She stood to the side, smiling politely at Seto. He went to unbuckle himself from the seat and discovered that his fingers were shaking minutely. Scowling, he clenched his fists, willing the nervous shaking to stop. It felt pointless to be so anxious. Mokuba would still be Mokuba, even if he had underestimated his absence by a few months.

With his hands steady, Seto stood and headed for the door. The attendant bowed as he exited the jet, stepping out onto a set of motorized stairs. His descending steps were drowned out by the roaring of jet engines and rumblings of planes in take off. The resulting wind blew his coat against his legs, carrying with it the smell of jet fuel and burning rubber. It smelled like home.

Just barely audible under the cacophony of noise was the sound of a much smaller engine approaching. Seto watched the limousine as it pull up to the jet, slowing to a stop just before the base of the stairway. A moment later, before the driver could exit, the back door burst open.

"Seto!"

The elder Kaiba chuckled, watching his little brother stumble out of the open door to run toward him. He shook his head as he took a few more steps toward the boy, feeling ridiculous for his earlier anxiety… but he stopped mid-step. Seto felt his blood go cold as he really _looked_ at the figure running toward him. Something had gone wrong. Mokuba was different… older, far older than he'd expected.

The boy was wearing a Domino High School uniform. His hair had grown longer. At least long enough that it needed to be tied back to stay out of the way. The face was still Mokuba's, but it had changed. The jaw was not as round, the cheeks were more defined, and the boy's eyes were more intense.

Mokuba collided with him, sending them both sprawling against the metal steps as he hugged his older brother around the chest. Seto struggled to sit up, hissing at the pain running down his back. At least Mokuba's personality hadn't changed too much.

"Mokuba, what…?"

"Sorry!" The boy sat up on his knees, allowing his older brother to sit properly. "I couldn't help it. I've missed you, big brother."

Seto stared at him. Mokuba had grown almost to his shoulders. He took the boy's face in his hands, inspecting it as if expecting it to suddenly change.

"Seto!" Mokuba shoved the hands away, laughing. "You're being weird!"

"How long has it been?"

The boy's head tilted to the side. "What?"

"How long have I been away?" Seto glowered.

Mokuba's eyes widened at the look and he leaned back against his ankles. "Two years. Why?"

The frown melted away. Seto stared at his little brother, lips tight.

"Seto, are you sure you're okay?" Mokuba leaned forward, concerned. The concern morphed into interest as he peered into the elder Kaiba's face. "Hey… you don't look any different from when you left, like you haven't aged at all."

Seto's brain didn't want to accept it, that he'd missed two years of his brother's life without realizing it. Mokuba had grown into a young man and he'd missed it. Mokuba was in high school and he'd missed the entrance ceremony. There had been so many events and so many conversations he was supposed to be there for, but he'd missed them all. He leaned forward, crossing his arms across his knees before laying his head on them.

Mokuba was forced back by the movement, surprised by the openly distressed position. "Seto?"

His older brother had said something, but it was too soft for him to hear.

"What?" Mokuba leaned forward again.

"I'm sorry," Seto whispered. "I didn't know. I _swear_ , I didn't know."

The teen sighed, wrapping his arms around his brother's shoulders. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're finally home."

"I will never leave you like that again. I-"

Mokuba smiled. "I know, you promise."

Mokuba insisted on taking Seto home and he relented. While the CEO did want to see his company and have his presence be felt by his employees after his two year absence, even he couldn't deny the importance of spending time with Mokuba, catching up on everything he had missed. Seto started right away, asking his little brother about the state of the company as soon as the limo's doors had clicked shut. It was apparent within the first ten minutes of Mokuba's explanation that there truly was a lot to catch up on.

Within a month of Seto's departure, Mokuba had instigated the decommission of the Kaiba Space Station and Space elevator. Both, he explained, had dug a huge hole in the corporation's finances and, while they could keep it running for a little while, it would eventually cost more to upkeep than was sustainable. Mokuba ended up recycling most of the tech back into the company, while selling the materials that were no longer useful to outside companies.

To recoup the financial loss, he put a majority of company resources back into improving the existing holographic systems, upgrading the holo-systems at subscribed facilities, and selling new installations within local and overseas markets. While this did earn a substantial amount of money back and resolve issues with many investors, it didn't completely recoup what had been lost on the station and elevator projects. So Mokuba started branching into a field they hadn't explored for a long time: virtual reality.

Reviving the old project hadn't been easy. Most of the old program files were corrupted from the Big Five's meddling and what wasn't corrupted was outdated, unplayable on modern systems. Mokuba had spent a few months trying to build the project from what was left before realizing that it wasn't worth the time, effort, or money. He would have to redo everything from scratch. So Mokuba pulled the best programmers and engineers from all parts of the company, setting them a goal to create a new virtual program that would run on a much smaller platform than Seto's original virtual reality pods. With that team working on the construction and OS for the new system, he put together another team to rewrite the adventure from the ground up.

The limousine came to a stop in front of Kaiba mansion. A moment later Seto's door was opened by their driver, who bowed politely as he exited the vehicle. Mokuba was right behind him.

"And you trust these teams?"

Mokuba grinned at his skeptical face. "I did what you would do. I did background checks and interviewed each one of them myself."

Seto smiled down at the teen as they entered the estate, a hand moving to the top of the boy's head. "You did well."

The grin widened. "Yeah!? I was hoping you'd say that. It was a lot of work, but I think it's going really great now. And I think I understand a bit more."

"And what is that?" Seto raised an eyebrow at the teen as they settled in the downstairs den.

To his relief, the mansion hadn't changed much since he'd left. There was a new television and other electronic paraphernalia he didn't recognize scattered about the room, but the décor itself had not changed.

Seto took off his coat and handed it to the butler waiting in the door way. The older man bowed and left the room.

"Well, why you had always been over there till so late." Mokuba plopped into the plush couch. "It really is hard to get away, isn't it? -Especially with people always asking for things. You don't really feel comfortable leaving unless everyone's stuff is taken care of, right?"

A pang of guilt stung in Seto's chest as he sat in his armchair. "That's one reason, yes."

"And why you were in such a bad mood all the time," Mokuba laughed. "I don't know how I didn't see it sooner! You were always getting up so early and coming home so late. Sometimes you didn't even have time to eat!"

Seto frowned, "Mokuba…"

"Trying to do everything by yourself is really stressful." Mokuba looked at the floor. "I even caught myself snapping at people sometimes. It was really hard to stay happy when there was so much stuff to do…"

Seto opened his mouth, but was interrupted when the butler reappeared over his shoulder. "Coffee, Mr. Kaiba?"

He took the offered mug. "Thank you."

The older man looked surprised for a moment, blinking uncertainly down at his employer. A moment later he smiled kindly and moved away without a word.

"Your hot chocolate, Mr. Mokuba." He offered a similar mug to the teenager.

"Thanks!" Mokuba grinned, taking his mug.

Seto looked down at the dark liquid, watching out of the corner of his eye as the butler bowed himself out of the room. Guilt continued to twist his insides. It was uncomfortable, making him feel more and more sick the longer it hung around. With a sigh, he placed the mug on the table beside him, having no desire for the bitter drink. When he looked over at the couch he found Mokuba watching him, the same interest from earlier furrowing his brow.

"You've been acting weird. You lied. You're not okay, are you?"

Seto pinched the bridge of his nose. "I will be. There was just a… complication on the way back."

Mokuba's brow rose. "What kind of 'complication'?"

He took a moment to think before carefully wording his response. "The kind that forced me to take a serious look at myself."

The teen stared. His mouth opened, but closed tight as if he'd changed his mind. It happed again a moment later, the teen making a confused noise in his throat.

"You didn't like what you saw?" His brother finally said.

Seto shook his head, looking over to see Mokuba looking down into his hot chocolate. For once he couldn't read the boy's face, couldn't guess what he was thinking. It had always been so easy to tell what Mokuba had been thinking or feeling just by how he sat or fidgeted. Not anymore, it seemed. Seto could barely tell if the boy was thinking at all by how stiff and still he sat or by how blankly he stared down into his mug.

He moved to the edge of his seat with a sigh and leaned forward, taking his little brother's hand. Mokuba looked up, surprised.

"I know I haven't always been there, especially for these past two years, and that I did a lot of wrongs to you since I took over the company."

The teen shook his head vigorously. "No! It's fine! I-"

"It's not _fine_. Mokuba, I…" Seto put his head in his other hand, pressing the thumb to his dully aching temple. "I can't say it's going to be easy, but I will try to change."

He felt Mokuba's fingers grip his hand. "Whatever you saw really messed you up, huh?"

Seto chuckled, looking up at his little brother again. "You could say that."

"Will you tell me about it, about what you saw?"

"Not now." Seto shook his head.

"But will you?" The teen pressed, squeezing his hand.

He watched the boy for a moment, wondering again if he should. If Mokuba had still been the thirteen year old boy he'd left behind, he wouldn't have thought twice about denying him such information. But that wasn't the brother he'd come home to. Mokuba was older, wiser, and much more mature than before. The teen had been in the world without his guidance for the past two years and survived, perhaps much better than Seto ever imagined he would.

He shrugged. "Of course I will, but not right now. I need to spend some time getting to know you again."

"I haven't changed that much." Mokuba smiled shyly.

"More than you think."

The teen looked down at his mug again, his smiled growing. "It'll be weird, but I guess I can get used to you being a little happier."

Seto huffed, smiling against his hand.

"Maybe you can start coming home in time for dinner?"

"I plan on it."

Mokuba grinned at him. He gripped Seto's hand tight for a moment longer before letting it go and taking a drink from his hot chocolate. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from the elder Kaiba's shoulders. He sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he watched the teen drink happily from his mug.

Seto picked up his own. "I see you enrolled at Domino. Have you been keeping up with your school work?"

"Uh-huh! I didn't wanna leave the company, so I decided to stay close. Now that your home, I can go away to college when I graduate."

His brow rose. "So you're already thinking about college?"

Mokuba nodded. "I was considering Tokyo U for a while, but everybody goes there. So I was waiting to ask what you thought about foreign schools."

"Depends on how _foreign_ you're thinking."

There was a soft knock on the den's doorframe. When the brothers looked up, they found the butler from before standing to one side.

"Pardon the intrusion. Mr. Mokuba, Ms. Morgan has arrived. Shall I see her in?"

"Ah!" Mokuba's exclamation made Seto look at him curiously. "I mean… no. Um, I'll go talk to her."

"Very well." The older man bowed. "Dinner will be ready soon."

"What was that about?" Seto asked once the man was gone. "If you tell me that you've started dating, I swear-"

"That's not it." The teen blushed, scowling at his brother in annoyance.

The look made Seto chuckled.

Mokuba's blush deepened as he set down his mug. "I'll be right back."

He watched the boy leave, steps heavy as he stomped out of the room. Seto waited until he could no longer hear the frustrated footsteps down the hall before setting down his own mug and following Mokuba's path out of the room. When he turned into the large foyer, Mokuba was standing by the open front door, talking with his guest. The individual was barely taller than the teen, hidden behind the mass of black hair. Seto moved to get a better look, catching the woman's eye as he skirted the edge of the foyer. He knew her, had seen her face twice before; once in the world of the Pharaoh's memories and once in the void.

It was Kisara, or perhaps what once was Kisara. She was an exact duplicate, yet there was something about her that was different. It wasn't the face or the eyes, though the aquamarine depths appeared far wiser then he remembered. The hair was the same, perhaps shorter, cascaded down her back and over her shoulder. It was something about how she stood and how she looked in what she was wearing. The grey slacks and colorful blouse looked as if they had been made for her, fitting perfectly to her form. Yet something about them didn't seem quite right, as if she wasn't truly comfortable in them.

She looked from him, back to Mokuba. "You're brother's home?"

The teen turned to give his brother an irritated look, until he saw the unusually blank look on the elder Kaiba's face. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to Seto.

"Yeah, sorry." Mokuba turned back to the woman. "He just got back today. I meant to call and cancel, but I forgot."

She smiled at him. "It's alright. It does explain where you were. The rest of the department was starting to wonder if you'd abandoned us for some girl."

The blush was back, spreading up to his ears this time. "No way!"

"Give it time." She turned her smile to Seto, taking a few steps toward him with a hand outstretched. "Anya Morgan, Mr. Kaiba. I'm the Creative Director for the Virtual Realms project."

Seto moved to meet her, taking the offered hand. "The pleasure is mine."

From over her shoulder, Seto caught the strange look Mokuba threw his way. He ignored it, looking back at the woman in front of him. She, unfortunately, was looking at him the exact same way; lips tilted in a crooked smile and one brow aloft.

Anya let go of his hand. "I see. Well, I look forward to working with you, _sir_."

Seto frowned, put off by the emphasis placed on the title.

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned back to Mokuba. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on."

The teen shook his head. "No, well, yes."

She smiled at the boy before moving back to the door, shaking her head.

In the doorway she turned to Mokuba. "We'll talk on Monday?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

Seto caught her eye again, for a moment it appeared that she would leave without another word. Then she bowed politely.

"It was an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Kaiba."

He almost told her not to go, almost offered that she stay and have dinner with them. But he didn't. Seto shut is lips tight and watched her leave, long white hair swaying behind her. His mouth had betrayed him once today. He wouldn't let it betray him again.

Mokuba shut the door behind her and turned to his brother, looking amused. "'The pleasure is mine'? Seriously?"

Seto frowned. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know what you _meant_ ," The teen grinned. "But that's not what you _said_."

He opened his mouth to shoot back a retort, interrupted again by an insistent throat clearing from the nearby dining room.

"Excuse me, sirs." The butler said from the doorway. "But dinner is served."

The scent of freshly prepared dinner wafted into the foyer as it was brought in from the kitchen. Seto glanced at Mokuba before stiffly making his way into the room.

"Hey!" His brother hurried after him. "Seto!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

This was something he definitely wouldn't hear the end of for the rest of the day… at least.


End file.
